The Shadow of Doubt
by JorriexLover
Summary: Circa Smackdown 2004. Torrie Wilson's life is already spiraling out of control, but when Kurt Angle, Big Show, and Rene Dupree decide to make her their next target, it truly becomes unbearable. That is, until one man comes into her life and promises to protect her. Cena/Torrie. Dupree/Dawn. Touches of Orton/Stacy.
1. Are You Okay?

_** A/N:**_**As most of you know, John Cena and Torrie Wilson were given a very short story line in 2004 when I was seven years old. I barely remember it, but it was very impactful to me. I had already shipped them, but that's when they became my OTP. And for those of you hardcore wrestling fans, you know that it had the makings of an amazing hook, especially with Kurt Angle, Rene Dupree, and Big Show in the midst of it. It was set up BIG TIME, John and Torrie even mentioned it in interviews during the time, but it was dropped. And why? Because of Peter Gruner (AKA Billy Kidman). This story is my take on how everything should have gone and there's an extension. But I've also added a lot more angst and psychological drama because...well, just because. I know that Torrie and Peter had a huge war after he was released and she wasn't and she wouldn't quit. I thought it fit this scenario. **

* * *

_ You've got to quit. _

_ You've got to quit._

_You've got to quit._

The words pounded in her ears ruthlessly. _You have to quit._ But why should she? Because it was what was expected of her. _If I'm released, you quit. We're _married_, remember? _

_ Of course I remember. _

Of course she remembered. That didn't mean anything, though. Did it? Should she give up her career, her whole life - for her husband? Weren't marriages supposed to be a team effort? Didn't spouses support each other no matter what?

_Can't we discuss this sometime else? When I can see you face to face? _

_ No need. _

_ Now or never. _

_ It's over._

_ Give your two weeks notice._

_ Two weeks notice and an airtight contract are two different things. _

_ A husband and no husband is two different things. _

_ I can't take this anymore! And to make matters worse, the Big Show just tore my car to pieces. _

She slid down the wall, no longer caring who walked by and saw her. She was sick and tired of this, all of this. She dropped her head into her hands, exasperated and dejected. She hadn't meant to laugh at Big Show, in fact, she hadn't been.

_Damn you, Jackie Gayda_.

This was all her fault. If she hadn't told her a stupid-ass knock, knock joke as Big Show was walking past her, this would have never happened.

But then, she couldn't blame Jackie. Jackie was her friend, sort of, and she wasn't just crying over Paul Wight. It was also her husband, Peter Gruner. He couldn't let her be. He couldn't let her do what she loved, just because he couldn't do it anymore.

He just didn't have the charisma, he didn't give off the charm that most people had. He'd had his time in WCW, but WWE just wasn't for him.

Torrie sniffed, feeling the waterworks in her hands. Her eye makeup was going to make her look like hell, but at this point, she didn't care. She just wanted to go back to the motel, take a sleeping pill, and sleep. Only this time, with no nightmares. It seemed like lately that's all that had occurred. She was tired of that, too.

Smackdown. That's where she was at the moment and she loved it. She'd even been dubbed the Queen of Smackdown by many people. She was _the _diva and Peter couldn't stand it. He couldn't stand her bikini contests, fashion shows, lingerie matches, pillow fights, it didn't matter. And he really hated her Playboy cover. He couldn't stop her from doing what she truly wanted and that's what she _had _to keep telling herself. No matter what he or Big Show was throwing at her at the moment, she _had _to stay positive. She'd been in deep holes before, what with her eating disorders and social anxiety. They'd been deep, but she'd always managed to find the shovel that dug her out.

Now, she wasn't sure where it was. It lingered, she could feel it. But it was far away.

"Hey, girl. You okay?"

Torrie sniffed loudly and began to claw at her eyes, trying to wipe away any tears and mascara that threatened to run down her cheeks. She looked up and saw a Boston Red Sox jersey, jorts, throwbacks, and a Sox baseball cap. It was none other than the Doctor of Thuganomics, John Cena.

She didn't know John all too well. He and Peter had been a tag team when he'd debuted, but after they lost a tag team title tournament, Cena had turned on him. She hadn't had too much respect for him after that, but he soon gained it back after he decided to team with Kurt Angle (their current general manager) at Survivor Series against Brock Lesnar's team. He had rapped on her a few times, once even claiming to want to toss her salad (which she actually found quite funny), but she'd barely talked to him. So what was he doing here now? "I'm fine," she replied shortly, trying to stand up. But soon enough, one of the heels on her black heeled boots bent, sending her colliding into the young rapper.

He caught her with one arm. "Are you sure you're all right? That didn't look too good. And you've been cryin,' ain't ya?"

She shook her head no and pushed past him. "No, I haven't."

She left him standing alone looking bewildered.

He took his hat off and ran his hand over his short, dark brown. He stared after her, bewildered. He knew she definitely wasn't all right.

* * *

_**A/N:**_** Okay, so first chapter: DONE! I'm so happy I'm finally doing this. All reviews are very appreciated! So far, it's rated T, but I figure it'll be rated M in later chapters. I've got most of this story planned out already, but if you have any suggestions, I don't mind considering them. Just don't get too upset if I don't go in that direction. And like I said, some of this may not be historically accurate. I was only seven, okay? I know it's short, but it's only the first chapter. I hope you all continue reading! Until I update, I've got loads of other stories you can check out. :D**

** Thanks, y'all!**

** -Kalina**


	2. I ain't been flirtin' with Torrie Wilson

_**A/N:**_ **Wow, so much positive feedback already! I know I have other stories and a bit of reading for English & History but I just couldn't resist continuing! Since the last chapter was mostly Torrie's point of view, this will be John's. **

** PLEASE READ THIS: By the way, Eddie Guerrero WILL be in this story. I'm sorry if that offends anyone, due to the fact that he is deceased. But since he was on Smackdown and played a big role in the show at the time, it's imperative that he be in this. If it does offend you, I apologize in advanced. Personally, I loved Eddie and I think that his time was too short. **

** ENJOY!**

The deep blue eyes of the United States champ, John Cena flitted around the room sadly. He couldn't explain it, nor he could he put a name to what it was that he was feeling. So many things were pinging around in his mind, but the biggest thing was his altercation with a blond diva.

_"Hey, girl. You okay?" _

_ "I'm fine." _

_ "Are you sure you're all right? That didn't look too good. And you've been cryin,' ain't ya?" _

_ "No, I haven't."_

_ "No, I haven't."_

She was lying, he could tell. And it could be a number of things, actually. It could be stress. It could be the fact that Big Show had tipped her car. But it was probably her husband. He knew Peter pretty well. They'd been a tag team at one point, but he'd never liked the guy. He didn't trust him any farther than he could throw a truck. There was a corrupt flicker in his eyes and he didn't like the way that he looked at people, like they were inferior, smaller than him. He looked at Torrie that way, too. And it wasn't right. For God's sake, they were married. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know that marriage is as a partnership, not a _dictator_ship, but that was the skinny from the locker room. Usually Eddie Guerrero and Rey Mysterio knew what they were talking about, and since they'd known Torrie longer than him, it was probably they were right. Then again, Eddie had a tendency to lie, cheat and steal...but that was beyond the point.

His eyes scanned over the match card in front of him. Van Dam vs Booker T, Too Hotty and Rikishi vs Haas and a mystery partner, John Cena vs both Chavo Guerreros...yeah, what the hell! He honestly didn't care anymore. He was dying to knock somebody's teeth out, especially know that Paul Heyman was the general manager of Smackdown for the night. It sucked enough to have Kurt Angle as the manager, but Heyman was an idiot and he had a personal vendetta against John and it was only because he believed that John's Thuganomic tactics weren't FCC suitable.

That was complete horse shit. He wasn't doing some of the stuff that the WWE had been doing years before he entered the company. He wasn't Val Venis shooting a porno with Jenna Jameson. He wasn't Triple H screwing a corpse. And he certainly wasn't wasn't Mae Young giving birth to a hand.

Yet, that didn't matter to Paul. As long as he was pissing off the guys that people loved, he was doing his job.

But the only real reason why Kurt Angle wasn't on Smackdown tonight was because of what had happened the week before. Big Show (or Big Shit, as John called him) was pissed, no doubting that. No one really expected to him to go after Torrie Wilson, though. Not only had he threatened her backstage, but he also tore up her car. He started out by kicking out the windows as Torrie yelled for him to stop. John wished she would've just ran off to begin with, but she didn't. Then, he flipped it over and Torrie ran away screaming in terror, of course falling down in the process.

The feed wasn't shown until later that night, so when John and Torrie had their encounter, he hadn't known what had just happened to her car. But that wasn't the worst of it.

No, the worst came in the final scene of Smackdown. A lot of people had already left the arena, including John. But he'd seen it on later that night and hadn't known what to think or do.

A man from behind the scenes came running up to Kurt to explain what was going on and Kurt instantly went to investigate. What the general manager found was Big Show with his huge hands around Torrie Wilson's throat on a ledge, prepared to toss her over it at any time. Kurt told Show that he'd give him problems unless he put Torrie down. Sadistically, Big Show smiled and tossed Torrie to the floor. Then, he chokeslammed Kurt right off that ledge. When the camera panned down, all there was to be seen was the lifeless body of the Smackdown general manager. Kurt was in the hospital, still.

John shrugged. It could be worse, he supposed. He could be like his best friend, Randy Orton, who was on RAW with Eric Bischoff. From what he knew, Bischoff was the biggest dick on the face of the earth. That was something he liked about being on Smackdown.

John walked back to his dressing room, biting his lip. What the hell was wrong with him? Torrie was just a diva, after all. Why did he care so much about her, anyway? Well, for starters, she wasn't like Jackie or Dawn or Sable. Sable, though a cougar and pretty hot, was more or less a slut and was screwing Lesnar, so that wasn't an option. Dawn was trash, plain and simple. Jackie was with Haas, but still, he wasn't crazy about her. Torrie was married, that he couldn't fault. And yet, there was something about her that kept her in his mind. He worried about her, yes. But that wasn't all of it. She was gorgeous: blond hair, sparkling green eyes, rocking body, beautiful smile, genuine, sweet, kind personality...she was, in one word, perfect.

"Yo, John!"

He turned around to see one of his best friends from Smackdown, Rey Mysterio.

"Hey, Rey Rey," John replied, slapping hands with him. "Whassup?"

"I heard it through the grapevine you were hittin' on a married diva last week," he said, raising his eyebrows at John.

Rey didn't have his mask on just yet, so John was able to see his face.

"Huh?" John asked, baffled.

"A married diva. Torrie Gruner," Rey replied.

"Torrie Wilson?" John asked.

"Yeah," Rey said, "technically, that's her name, I guess. Word in the locker room is that y'all were flirting. Is that true? Not that I care, you know. It's just-"

"Hold up! John held up a hand. "I ain't been flirtin' with Torrie Wilson, man. I just asked her last week if she was aight. She was cryin' and all."

"I'm just saying what I heard, bro. I never said it was true or anything," Rey replied, defensively.

"I know," John replied, clapping the shorter man on the back. "But if anybody asks, I ain't been flirting with her."

...

There was a knock on the door of Torrie Wilson's dressing room.

Hesitantly, she called, "Who is it?"

Since last week, she'd been more than a little bit wary of her surroundings. She was still really jumpy and expecting the Big Show to appear and kill her at any moment.

"You've got priority mail and I have to make sure you get it!" the voice replied.

Torrie sighed with relief and got up from her chair to open the door. She was even more relieved to see a man standing at the door with the official WWE merchandise attire and a manilla envelope.

"Sign this please," he instructed.

Torrie did so and he handed her the envelope.

He nodded to her. "Have a good night."

"You too," she replied, "and thanks."

She shut the door and walked back over to her chair. Oddly, the return address was from a lawyer. She recognized the name due to the fact that he was based in Tampa.

_Oh hell_. _I'm being sued_, was Torrie's first thought.

But as she opened the envelope, a different wave of dread came over her. The first piece of paper that she came across was childlike in the fact that it had been torn out of a spiral notebook and was penned sloppily in black Sharpie. But it was the words that stung her.

_Fuck you_...In Peter's handwriting. She'd know it absolutely anywhere.

With shaking hands, she reached into the envelope and pulled out the rest of the documents.

_Mrs. Gruner, _

_ You're husband...sorry to tell you...unfortunately...separate...as easy as possible...irreconcilable differences..._

She didn't even have to read the whole thing. She wasn't stupid. All of these words, these meaningless sentences all meant the same things. They were all synonymous to one dreaded word.

Divorce.

**By the way, wrestling experts, I do in fact know that Torrie and Peter were not divorced until 2006, BUT in order for this story to work, this must be true. Also, they were having problems by this time, too. Am I the only one who wonders what all happened behind closed doors. I wonder if the guys all took sides after her divorce. One thing I do know is that John was on her side. *Jorrie moment. Sorry, I must go cry over my OTP now. Goodbye until next time. **


	3. Fifi isn't the only bitch in this ring

_AN: _**Goodness! I guess a lot of you like this, considering I've gotten fourteen reviews - for only two chapters. LOL, this is amazing! **_**You guys**_** are amazing! So, I dedicate this chapter to each of you, but especially to my new friend, xlightafire. She's amazing, check her out! Oh, and my Youtube buddy: ultimatexbarbie. She's awesome, too! :D**

** BY THE WAY: The dialouge during part of this may not be word for word historically accurate. I don't remember exactly how it goes. I used to have the video, but the dang thing got deleted when I was upgrading laptops. So, same event, maybe some different wording. PLEASE DO NOT COMMENT ABOUT IT! **

* * *

** "**_Now, I'm only telling you this...__Because life, can do terrible things." _- Mayday Parade "Terrible Things"

She didn't scream. She didn't yell. She didn't throw a tantrum. She didn't cry her eyes out. She didn't laugh.

She walked out to the ring with a bright smile in a pretty brown dress. It was what was expected of her, and really, she didn't know how to react just yet.

So instead, she'd go to the ring and be a part of Café de René - because it was what was expected of her. And it would feel good to have people on her side for a change.

* * *

"Café de René, huh?" RVD asked, that same night in the locker room, "and a moment of silence for Kurt Angle?" Rob laughed.

Rey chuckled. "This is stupid. I feel sorry for Torrie, you know. And not just 'cause of this stupid-ass show. And besides, I don't think calling the fans classless is gonna get him anywhere."

Eddie Guerrero nodded in agreement. "Definitely, esse. Big Show was way outta line. He coulda killed her!"

John merely nodded in agreement. He could vaguely remember the fact that Torrie had been Eddie's valet a few times. It was no surprise that Eddie would take up for the blond.

_Damn, she looks beautiful_, John thought to himself. He tried to shake it off, as his friends noticed his behavior.

"You all right, John?" Rob asked, concerned.

"Yeah," Eddie added, "you haven't said much tonight."

John gulped. "I'm aight. I'm just...tired. Got a headache."

"That sucks," Rey replied, "seeing as though you got the Guerreros tonight," he looked at Eddie.

"What?" Eddie asked, "Esse, it isn't me that John should be worried about. Actually, I wouldn't worry at all. Huh, John?" he nudged John, grinning.

John still wasn't paying attention. His eyes were still glued to the television set, watching the Café de René segment begin.

"John?" Eddie asked.

"Huh?" John asked, blinking hard.

The other three men exchanged puzzled looks, but decided silently to let John be alone with his thoughts. "Never mind," Eddie replied.

"I think Fifi likes you," John heard René tell Torrie.

Torrie smiled back at him and continued to pet the Frenchman's poodle.

René poured her a glass of wine. "Now, can I ask you why you were laughing at the Big Show last week?"

Torrie frowned slightly, swallowing. She didn't reply, confused.

"Why were you laughing at Big Show last week?" René repeated, this time with more anger in his tone.

"I wasn't laughing at the Big Show!" Torrie exclaimed, "I would never laugh at anyone else's expense!"

René laughed sarcastically. "Am I supposed to believe that? What do I look like to you, Torrie? Stupid?"

"No, I-René...What are you-" Torrie stammered.

René glared at her. "Are you gonna laugh at me, too, Torrie?"

"No, I thought that we were here to talk about the Diva's Magazine...?-"

René cut her off again. "It was your fault, Torrie. All your fault! If it wasn't for you, Kurt Angle wouldn't be in a hospital room now with a broken leg. If it wasn't for you, Kurt Angle would be here in front of me, drinking and enjoying our French wine!"

A look of pure hurt and embarrassment came over Torrie's face. She backed away from the French phenom, obviously totally unsure of how to handle the situation.

"You represent all North American women who rely on men for _everything_! René sniffed, sticking his nose in the air, the evil sneer never leaving his face."I guess that Fifi isn't the only _bitch_ in this ring!"

John's draw dropped. He couldn't believe that the French man had done that. His suspicions about that asshole had been completely true. John Cena's first impressions usually proved correct - especially this time.

RVD, Eddie, and Rey were all also frozen to their seats. RVD's mouth hung open, Eddie's eyes were wide and confused, and Rey's fists were clenched with anger.

"What the fuck?" John murmured under his breath, fire raising in his stomach.

Torrie Wilson surprised everyone when she gave René Dupree a hard slap in the face.

Without missing a beat, René picked up his glass of wine and tossed it in her face.

Shock played on the blond's face as she rubbed at the sting in her eyes. She opened them just enough for him to come closer.

And that's when John Cena reacted. Without a word of warning to Eddie, Rey, or RVD, he bolted up from his seat and practically broke down the door running out of the room. His friends were too surprised to ask him what the hell he was doing.

As this was going on, René was stepping closer to Torrie. Fear came over her and she did the only thing she knew - she fought back. She raised her hand to smack him away, but he caught it and picked her up, turning her upside down in order to body slam her.

But suddenly, to Torrie's utter shock and relief, he dropped her behind him, without any extra force. She looked up for only a second to see a shirtless, brunette man in jean shorts coming to her aid. She rolled out of the ring, not looking back, running straight for the backstage area. Anything to get away from that crazy man!

The Doctor of Thuganomics went to work on René, slamming his chain and padlock onto the Frenchman's head over and over, until René moved back to quickly and fell out of the ring over the second turnbuckle.

"Come on!" John yelled at René, "get your ass back in the ring! You man enough to hit a woman? Well, then I'm man enough to beat the living shit outta ya!"

When René didn't get back in the ring, John began to take his anger out on other things. The eiffel towers, the tables and chairs...the picnic basket, he threw them all about, toward René, as if to say that this was his warning: _Don't go after Torrie again...Or you're dead! _

René ran to the ramp, dead set on getting away from Cena, who was still tearing the Café de René setting to nothing. Finally, John realized that his enemy had left.

With that, he rolled out of the ring and ran down the ramp to the backstage era, determined to find out where the little bastard had ran off to.

And no one could figure out why in the _hell_ John Cena was so damned determined to protect Torrie Wilson.

* * *

**Ta-da! I know, quite short, but I'm tired. I wanted to get another update in 'cause I loooove this story. The quote was because I love that song and I thought that those lyrics kinda fit the chapter. o_O**

** Anyway, I also wanted to give my rant on this story line. I've always hated the story lines with the divas in distress and a superstar having to save them...I mean, they're divas. Can't they kick somebody's ass? But...I digress. Anyway, I think having the entire corporate side of the WWE against Torrie and having Cena be on her side made it very interesting, which is why I'm expanding it. But what really bothers me is that René always had to come beat her up. That really pisses me off, especially when a man hits a woman for no damn reason. It's just...stupid and really uncalled for. It makes them look like wussy assholes with no cojones (yes, a Del Rio reference). **

** One last thing! If there's any characters (they must have been in WWE during this time, mind you) that you'd like to see in this, just tell me. If they were on Smackdown at the time, they're more than likely gonna make an appearance. A few RAW superstars will, too, *clears throat: Randy and Stacy! Everyone knows they have to be, lol. I'm gonna go watch Whose Line is it Anyway reruns now. **

** Hope you enjoyed! :)**

** -Kalina**


	4. Ain't the First Time I've Found You

_Why do you cry when you're falling asleep? _

_ And girl, how can you love without ever losing it all?  
_

_ Don't put your faith in this, when you won't believe it. _

_ Where did you go? _

_ How will you find yourself when your hand to hold is letting go? _

_ - _Mayday Parade: "Call Me Hopeless, But Not Romantic"

"Torrie! Torrie!"

The blond did not get up from the chair in her dressing room. She just couldn't. She was still frozen to the seat - for so many reasons. She had so much to think about, so much to consider-

"Tor_rie_!"

Finally, Torrie spun around.

Torrie had a lot of reasons to hate Dawn Marie Psaltis, just as she should. Onscreen, she'd married Torrie's father. Now, sure, this was only a story line. However, it didn't mean that Dawn didn't rub it in Torrie's face. She was as fake as her breasts and Torrie didn't do fake. She was always bringing up the segment where she'd 'seduced' Torrie and used it to constantly humiliate her. Not only that, but she was a definite backstabber. Torrie just couldn't stand her.

"Yes, Dawn?" Torrie asked through gritted teeth.

Dawn flashed her a fake smile. "Paulie wants to see you in his office right away."

'Paulie' could be only one person and that was Paul Heyman. Because Kurt Angle had been injured two weeks before, Heyman had taken over, much to the chagrin of pretty much the entire Smackdown roster. Dawn just happened to be his latest toy and he just happened to be her latest victim.

"Whatever," Torrie snapped, stalking away from the brunette.

"Torrie!" Dawn called.

"What?!" Torrie yelled back.

"Good luck," Dawn giggled, "you'll definitely need it, beautiful."

Torrie rolled her eyes, fire rising in her stomach. She still hated Dawn and was all ready to punch her lights out. She hated it when Dawn called her anything sugar-coated, well, she actually hated _anything _Dawn called her. Then, she remembered that she had to go see Heyman. She scoffed and took off toward his office.

Dawn Marie smiled, knowing _exactly_ what was going to happen to Torrie.

...

The sign on his door read, _Paul E. Heyman - GM of Smackdown_.

_Damn,_ Torrie thought to herself, _Kurt's gone all of two weeks and Paul steps in and takes complete control over _everything.

Hesitantly, she raised her hand to knock on his door. She didn't want to; she didn't like Heyman. He just wasn't a nice guy. And Torrie was not looking forward to what was going to happen.

Sighing, she knocked.

"Come in!" she heard the raspy voice yell to her.

Shamefully wiping at the wine still in her face, she turned the doorknob and went into the room.

"Torrie!" Paul exclaimed, "just the girl I've been looking for. Have a seat, please."

Torrie nodded. "Thank you. You wanted to see me?"

"Yes!" he exclaimed, swiveling in his chair, "I saw what just happened on Café de René.

The blond lowered her eyelids in shame. "Yeah...," she trailed off.

"And I won't have that on _my _show," Paul declared, folding his hands on his deck, "which is why I'm putting René in a match next week."

Torrie sighed with relief. Perhaps Paul was finally getting a soul. She hoped that René had to go up against RVD or Mysterio or Eddie or even someone from RAW, like someone from Evolution...yeah, that would teach him.

"Next week, it will be René Dupree vs Torrie Wilson!" Paul blurted out, giving Torrie a wicked smile.

It took Torrie a couple seconds to register what Paul had just said. When it did, a look of horror passed over her. "Paul, I can't go fight René!"

"Yes, you can," Paul replied, "and you will!"

Torrie shook her head no. "Kurt will be back next week...he'll-he'll never agree to this!"

Paul grinned at Torrie. "He already has. Now, begone. I have work to do."

"But-" Torrie tried to say.

"No!" Paul blurted, "get out! Now!"

At just about that exact moment, Dawn Marie pushed the door to Paul's office open and gave him a sexy smile, "hey, Paulie." Then she shifted her gaze to Torrie and said, "hey, Torrie."

Torrie didn't reply, just pushed past the brunette and felt tears come to her eyes.

...

John Cena stood in his own dressing room, leaning against the wall and watching as Smackdown progressed. Paul Heyman was an idiot, a douche bag, and an asshole. But John didn't know that he was completely stupid, too.

Any person that would make an intergender match was an idiot. And John just _could not understand_ why René thought it was okay to beat up on Torrie, because it for sure was not.

He wanted to talk to Torrie, to ask her how she was and that...what else? Why did he keep thinking about her? Why did he feel responsible for her? Torrie was _married_ and not to him. Shouldn't her husband be the one worrying for her?

_Oh yeah,_ John remembered, _he got released_.

He closed his eyes, sighing. "Fuck it," he said to himself.

John couldn't stand around stewing anymore. He wanted to go for a walk, alone though. He didn't feel like talking to any of his friends or even one of his acquaintances. He had some stuff to figure out.

He opened the door and stepped out into the backstage area, which, to his relief, was basically empty. The show was almost over, so he assumed most of the superstars, divas, trainers, and other employees had left.

John began walking, making a beeline for the big double doors that would lead him outside. Well, that was his plan, anyway. He stopped dead in his tracks when he heard the sound of a deep and pitiful sobbing. He looked around, his eyes stopping at a girl sitting in the corner, her knees up to her chest and her face buried in her hands.

"Torrie?"

She sniffed and looked up. When she saw who it was, she wiped at her eyes and said, "hey, John."

Tentatively, John sat down beside her. "You ready to tell me what's wrong?"

"Huh?" she asked, giving him a strange look.

"This ain't the first time I've found you cryin.' Last time, you said you was fine and wasn't crying. That's bullshit and now you're doin' it again. Somebody normal would say you're upset about René and Paulie and Big Shit and Kurt. That's probably part of it, but it ain't all. What's really wrong with ya? I ain't gonna tell anybody."

Torrie sighed. Despite his word choice, Cena was a lot more intuitive than she'd thought. "It's nothing. Nothing besides the fact that I have to fight a guy next week. Probably would have to today, too had you not came out and beat René's ass. Thank you." She gave him a very sad smile.

He gave her one in return. "No problem. It bugs me when men hit women...well, boys. If a guy's gonna hit a girl, he ain't a man."

She smiled brighter and nodded, but soon her smile faltered. "I don't know what I'm gonna do next week.

John pursed his lips. "We'll just have to see what Kurt does. I saw Paul say that Kurt agreed, but I ain't too convinced of it. I mean, he _does_ have a wife, he's gotta have some kind a conscience. But if he don't...," he trailed off.

Torrie wasn't sure what John meant by that. She sniffed one more time and stood up. "Thanks, John. For everything."

He grinned. "You're welcome, girl."

**Long time no see! Dang...I haven't updated any of my stories in quite some time! I'm sorry, it's just that school's been a bitch, I've got a lot of MVC stuff for Youtube, AND I've been sick a lot for some reason. I've got awful sinuses and a crap immune system. I think I'm gonna update this the most because I've got this one the most planned out, BUT I WILL finish WWE High and Last Resorts this summer, given I have enough time. I think I'm getting a new laptop and we're getting wi-fi at my house, too, so I'll be online a lot more! **

** Ooh, one more piece of interesting news! On the 28th, I'm going to IMPACT Wrestling Live. I'm so excited because it'll be the first time I've ever been to a televised event, seen Jeff Hardy, and seen Sting, which have been three things I've wanted to do since I was little. All right, enough of my crap. Thanks for reading! :)**

** -Kalina**


	5. I Want You to Suffer

_Let's write a song that we can sing to, _

_ And you can lead the choir, _

_ And put the hook where it hurts the most. _

_ And you threw a spark that lit the candle, _

_ That set us all on fire,_

_ And set a flame down the east coast. _

_-_Mayday Parade: "Jersey"

The next week on Smackdown, general manager Kurt Angle was back and his first order of business was to go out to the ring and ramble about things the WWE Universe did not give a shit about. He and his assistant, Luther Reigns, called Torrie Wilson out to the ring. And she looked as much as a wreck as she felt.

She was dressed in cute white and burgundy wrestling wear with matching white boots. Her hair was done in soft curls. She looked beautiful, but the terror and sadness on her face tore away from her natural beauty.

The René Dupree VS Torrie Wilson match was still on, as far as Kurt Angle was concerned. He was royally pissed at her and the commentators, Michael Cole and Tazz made comments about how Kurt didn't look right.

Kurt sat in his wheelchair in the middle of the ring and sadistically watched Torrie drag her feet to the corner. His leg was wrapped up in a white cast after he'd been dropped from the ledge by the Big Show.

A 'Torrie, Torrie, Torrie!' chant and whistles and catcalls ripped throughout the arena, as Torrie kept trying to apologize and reason with Kurt...which seemed to only add to the general manager's anger.

"Torrie, I wanna tell you that there's really one person that I blame for all of this," and choking on his words, the Olympic gold medalist finished, "it's you!"

Needless to say, the Boise belle was speechless. She only shook her head in disagreement.

"What Torrie? It wasn't your fault? You weren't laughing at the Big Show? Save it, Torrie!" he yelled at her.

"I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, "I'm sorry!" It was really all she could say. She definitely hadn't been expecting all of this when she cam out to the ring.

"I wanna tell you something, Torrie. I want you to get over here right in front of me. Right now," Kurt ordered.

Torrie stayed glued to the spot she had been at.

"Now!" Kurt screamed

But Torrie was too scared to move.

"Luther, bring her over here," Kurt instructed.

A look of fear crossed over Torrie as she saw the big man coming toward her. He grasped her arm hard and she screamed...but he never softened his grip. Instead, he jerked her forward and _dragged _her to where Kurt sat.

Defensively, she crossed her arms across her chest.

"It must be nice to be perfect, Torrie. Isn't it?" he asked her, as Torrie shook her head no.

Torrie knew for a fact that she wasn't perfect.

Kurt continued his tirade, "Well, you're not! You're pathetic! Because of my injury, I can no longer have sex with my wife, anymore!"

Torrie had sure felt pathetic these last couple weeks. Kurt had just proven what she had predicted.

At "Because of my injury, I can no longer have sex with my wife, anymore," the crowd reacted with a giant, "eww!"

"And I have to stay in this wheelchair for people like you who prance around without a care in the world! Like the rules don't apply to you, Torrie! Well, guess what? Tonight, they don't. Tonight, you have a match with René Dupree and I'm making it no disqualification!"

Torrie gasped and covered her mouth with her hands in shock.

It was true that Kurt Angle had indeed lost his mind.

"And Torrie, don't go anywhere, because that match is coming up next!" he roared.

Finally, Torrie began to cry and she didn't really give a shit that this was going to be on TV and viewed by millions around the world. She was scared _to death_. Who knew what René could do in a _No Disqualification Match? `_

"And I want you to-"

Torrie tried to back away toward the ropes in order to leave the ring, but Kurt noticed.

"Bring her over here! Bring her over here right now," he instructed Luther. And Torrie screamed bloody murder.

"You look me in the eyes!" he yelled at her, "Torrie, I want you to suffer every bit as much as I did! My career is over, Torrie. But you make no mistake about it, I _will_ have the last laugh!"

Torrie closed her eyes. She still couldn't believe this was actually happening.

"Now get me out of here, Luther, now," Kurt told his assistant.

Torrie watched as Kurt left the ring with a 'you suck!' chant going on around her.

...

_This is actually fucking happening_, John thought to himself. He shook his head. Hell, maybe René would chicken out like the chicken shit he was. But John knew in his heart that René wouldn't. Torrie was gonna get hurt, that's just the way it was. But John also knew that he couldn't very well run down there for no reason. René wasn't gonna hurt Torrie, though.

If there was one thing John Cena was for sure about, that was it.

...

After the commercial break, the camera cut back to Torrie in the ring, awaiting her opponent for her match. Her heart sank when she heard the French phenom's music hit and his poodle, which just happened to be black this week. The week before, it had been white. Torrie tried to focus on that...not her fear.

She backed into a corner as René stepped into the ring and closer to her. He reached out and pervertedly reached out and twisted one of her curls around his finger. Torrie felt vomiting. He reached out and did it again, and this time Torrie flinched away. She did the same with his third and shook her head at him, visibly begging him to leave her alone. He smiled wickedly and reached out to shake her hand. When she didn't shake it, he grabbed it and yanked her forward and then he did it again, picking her up. She squirmed and tried to get away, screaming. He picked her up and slammed her down, the bell ringing to signal the start of the match.

Torrie inched away from his, grasping her hurt abdomen. René opened his robe, revealing his wrestling trunks. Torrie wanted to puke - the second time she'd felt that today. Dupree began his dance, just to humiliate her and now she just wanted to get the hell away from him - no matter what it took.

Dupree picked her up by her hair and then grabbed her arm, sending her flying toward the ropes. But what he didn't expect was for her to jump over him and grab his legs in an attempt to pin him schoolboy style. Unfortunately, she wasn't strong enough and he sat down on her. The referee counted to two and then Torrie kicked out, this time successfully executing a schoolboy pin, but René kicked out before the referee could even count one.

Torrie crawled away from him, seeing him running toward her. She, however, jumped to her feet and began to slap him away. Then, there was a repeat of last week. René picked her up in order to body slam her, but he dropped her down at the new sight of John Cena.

John was pissed, even more pissed than last week. He went to work on René, repeatedly punching the Frenchman. He backed him into the turnbuckle and fought him into the middle of the ring where he rolled out. Cena looked behind him and saw Torrie in the corner, frozen in fear - and relief, too. He reached out for her hand, to help her when she pointed him behind him at René Dupree. He attacked Cena from behind, but John was still angry and fought Dupree closer to the ropes where he almost ran into Torrie. She screamed, René threw her at John, and left the ring, glaring at the two of them.

John began to yell at René. "Come on, then! Get your ass back in here!" He let out a huge breath and turned around to where Torrie was sitting in the ring. He knelt down beside her and helped her up. Oddly, he had to hold her for a long time because she was still extremely shaken up and wouldn't stand by herself.

When he finally helped her to her feet, he held her arm up and then held the ropes open for her so that they could get the hell out of there.

When they made it to the backstage area, Torrie finally spoke. "Thank you. Thank you so much." She gave him a small smile.

John nodded. "You're welcome. I'm sorry it took so long."

She shook her head. "Don't. You came and helped me, which is more than I can say for everybody else."

He grinned and averted his eyes to the floor. It was then that Torrie noticed how incredibly blue they were.

He was dressed in a white and red Sooners jersey and cap, so he and Torrie matched. That pleased her.

"Seriously," she said, "thank you. I owe you big time."

He shook his head. "No, you don't. René's a pussy. Kurt's an ass, excuse my language."

She laughed - a real laugh, not one of the fake ones she'd been having to perform for a while. It felt good to really laugh for once. "That's all right." Impulsively, Torrie wrapped her arms around the Doctor of Thuganomics. "Thanks, John. For everything.

**WHOA! Two chapters in one day. I am quite proud. I know this one was mostly what happened onscreen, but I felt like it was important. The next chapter will also be from this night, I think. I've got some more planned for this night. This story will probably only be anywhere from 10-12 chapters, so we've got like, five or six chapters to go. Maybe more, we'll see. Thanks, y'all! :)**

** -Kalina**


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